Title: Decade
Pairing: L/V
Rating: R, definitely R and maybe verging on NC-17.
Spoilers: All aired episodes.
Word Count: 2,098
Summary: Future fic. Veronica and Logan think they have moved on with their lives. They both end up in New York, where Logan is an actor and Veronica a photographer. L/V.
Disclaimer: Obviously, these characters do not belong to me. I have just adopted them for a little while.
Author Note: Hey, guys, I'm not dead. This should probably make you happy. I'm really, really sorry I haven't been updating and that it seemed like I dropped off the planet, but I just started my first semester of college, so it's taking up kind of a lot of my time. So I will try to keep updating, but they will definitely be more frequent around break times. Thanks for all of you who reviewed and read, you are the greatest. Special thanks to Ashqua for inspiring me. Sorry this chapter isn't that long, I'll try to make it longer next time.
The phone rang raucously. Veronica closed her eyes tightly.
The phone rang again.
Veronica groaned, turned over and grabbed the phone. Wallace. I didn't know it was going to be this fast. She sat up, croaking out a sleepy "Hello?"
"Veronica Mars. Could you possibly explain why there is a picture of my BFF on the cover of Us Weekly magazine kissing Logan Echolls?"
It took 24 hours for the photo to go viral. Everyone wanted to know who the girl he was kissing was and entire websites were taken over with predictions. No one yet had her identified, but she knew it was only a matter of time before someone guessed or leaked the truth. And it, whatever it was, would be announced in the next issue of Vanity Fair for all the world to scrutinize. If Veronica wanted to continue the ascent of her rising photography career. Or if she wanted to stay in Logan's life. Having returned to the city, Veronica didn't know what she wanted. Except that she didn't want to try to explain to Wallace something inexplicable. And that Wallace hadn't spoken to her dad.
"What made you think it was me?"
"Blonde, petite, kissing Logan Echolls. Doesn't even take your super-sleuth powers."
"Hey, I've heard there've been many who fit that description. That proves nothing."
"Come on, I'm your best friend. I can recognize even your blurry profile. Besides, you were wearing a blue and white striped shirt that I have seen you wear several times before and your unmistakable messenger bag was sitting next to you. What do you say to that?" Wallace sounded smug.
"You have learned well, my apprentice. Perhaps soon you will surpass the master. What were you doing with an Us Weekly anyway? Don't tell me you subscribe just for those shirtless Matthew McConaghey photos."
"I… I just happened to have a copy. That I happened to pick up on the supermarket check out line. Because I thought it was the one with bikini photos of Jessica Alba. And then I saw you. And him. Don't you even try to get me to forget my original question with this focus on me. You were doing something you swore you would never do again which was coincidentally documented on a celebrity gossip magazine. Care to explain?"
Veronica sighed. "It's complicated."
Yes, she was avoiding answering the question properly. But how could she answer a question she didn't know the answer to. She, too, was a little afraid of how Wallace would judge her. She didn't know how she judged herself.
She had woken up the previous morning among the tousled, 600-count sheets of Logan's bed. She turned over and watched his slack, sleeping face, the picture of unconscious peace as his chest rose and fell evenly. So briefly, she had felt blissful, until her inner alarm sounded, screaming Danger, Danger, Danger. She rolled out of bed, gathered her things together in her room upstairs and changed into her clothes. She called for a cab to take her to the train station. When she returned to Logan's room, he was awake and looking out the window, in only his boxers. "Logan," she said.
"Veronica," he said, turning towards her.
"Logan, I have to go back to the city."
He looked at her, blank and silent.
"I have to get back to my real life. It's been fun…" she trailed off as she realized how inappropriate her word choice was. Logan raised his eyebrows. "Okay, not exactly fun, but I can't exactly think of the correct word to describe it right now. Anyways, I have to go back."
"Okay." His face was impassive.
"Okay?" Veronica couldn't help letting out her surprise at his lack of objections.
He shrugged and motioned to the window he had been looking out of. "Your cab's here," he said dryly.
"Oh." She swallowed and bit her lip. "Well, I'll see you around. Bye." She turned to start to walk away.
"Call me," he said softly.
She paused and nodded almost imperceptibly. Then she left. As taxi pulled away, she looked up at Logan's window. When he saw her looking at him, he saluted mockingly. She looked away from him and turned back to her phone.
On the train she stared at the dreary day outside. The sky was overcast, but bright, committed to neither rain nor shine, ambivalent. The mid-morning train was not a popular one, as it was a little late for a commuter train, so she had the privilege of solitude.
Unfortunately, a couple stops along, a giggling group of teenage girls came in. It was a Wednesday, but they must have had the day off for some reason or were cutting school to come to New York. For reasons Veronica could not even begin to fathom, they decided to sit in the foursome across from her. She glared at them, but they were occupied enough with themselves not to notice. She tried to ignore them with all her might and increasingly higher volume on her iPod, and it worked quite well until she heard "Logan Echolls". And she saw a magazine being waved. One of them held it open for the others and coincidentally gave Veronica an excellent view of the front cover. A cover which has a giant picture of Logan from a red carpet event, next to a blown up but blurry picture of the two of them kissing with the headline "Logan Echolls: Moving on with Mystery Woman?" Veronica frowned, and tried to inspect the photo more closely while simultaneously being subtle. At least you can't tell it's me unless you really know me, she thought gratefully. And then crossly grabbed her stuff to move to a different car.
"Veronica, 'it's complicated' is not an answer and you know it. You have some 'splainin' to do and I suggest you do it fast before I go showing this picture to your dad without any kind of explanation behind it."
Veronica sighed, again. And I'm still in my pajamas. Not really the attire of clear thinking. "Fine, Wallace, fine. It's just kind of a long story…"
Downtown, Logan's apartment looked like a tornado had blown through it. Since he had been out of town, his cleaning lady Helen had cleared up all the empty bottles and other paraphernalia of depression, but the first thing Logan did when he returned was to take out everything belonging to Olivia, given to him by her or liked by her. Her clothes he'd had Helen pack up and ship to her, but there were all sorts of other pieces of her still hanging round. He had put a box in the middle of the room for everything to be thrown into, but his carelessness of aim had made it more of a pile. Books, bowls, DVDs, and her weird health foods were strewn about, the detritus of his life with her. He turned up his music on high, the beat pounding throughout the room, in part to drown out his thoughts.
The truth was, he was angry, but he didn't know exactly what about. Olivia seemed distant, and even as he was trying to expunge her from his life, it was not the destruction of her things, but the idea of cleaning here out which most energized him. There was still resentment bubbling, but it had been forced to a back burner with Veronica's sudden and bewildering reappearance in his mind and in his life.
Her exit had been typical, the sudden retreat when things seemed to be getting out of her control. As weird, delicious, and sometimes painful as those few days had been, they had felt right to Logan. Like everything was finally fitting together. He still had no idea how Veronica had felt about it. Her bolt could have been either the signal of her realization that she had taken an unwanted and idiotic detour from her real life or that she was frightened of falling back into an unknown and unknowable future with him, against her better judgment. Or she just had some thinking to do. He couldn't deny that he had been reminded how much he adored her soft, yielding skin, her unique scent he once characterized as "marshmallows and promises" and how attuned he was to her particular desires. He was grinning about it in remembrance, when there was knock on the door. Logan frowned. He hadn't been expecting anyone. Whoever it was knocked again.
Logan opened the door to find Olivia on his doorstep. She marched abruptly past him into the room. "I can't say I was expecting you. Ever, actually," Logan said acidly, "Why don't you just make yourself at home?" He opened his arms in a parody of welcome.
She looked around. "It's nice the way you treated my stuff. So mature," Olivia said.
"Who needs maturity when you've got girlfriends who cheat on you and make a porno out of it?" Logan kicked some of the DVDs closer to the box. "I mean, I did send you your clothes, when it's been pretty clear to most of the computer-owning world that you don't really need them."
"Whatever, forget it, Logan. We need to talk about this." She held up a copy of Us Weekly. "My people have already been bombarded with questions about this and I was the last person to know."
"I'm supposed to tell my ex everything and everyone I do after her? That's an odd definition of ex."
"Well, before I get blindsided! You know how they are."
"Yeah, I kinda do. You seem to keep forgetting the earlier events of this week. Does memory loss often accompany sluttiness? I should make a note of it."
Olivia glared at him. "Who is this skank anyway?" She waved the magazine.
"Skank? I'm afraid this is an instance of the pot calling the teapot black."
"That's not the saying."
"Right, because you're the pot, who is black, calling the teapot, who is white, black. I'd think the metaphor was obvious, but I guess I must have always been the brains of our relationship."
"You're an ass, Logan, you know that?" Olivia crossed her arms.
"So I've heard. You probably heard it before you dated me, too, but I guess I was famous enough for you to get over it."
"You still won't tell me who she is? Do I know her?" Olivia's tone was accusatory.
"You didn't come here for any professional reason. You just came because you wanted to know who I'd replaced you with, so you could start tearing her down. Well, she can handle it, but I think it'd just be better for you to go back to middle school which is where you evidently just came from. Wait, didn't you just say I was the immature one? Again, an odd case of mistaken identity. Or projection."
"Well, I hope you two are happy together. And I can't wait to meet her! I'm sure she's something special, given how fast you moved."
"Don't worry, you'll get to meet her soon enough. In fact, we'll see you at the premiere on Tuesday. You can have a red carpet catfight, if you want. And will Conor be your date? Or do you have someone else as well that is on the side of your guy on the side."
"Goodbye, Logan," Olivia said as she slammed the apartment door behind her.
Logan looked around at the room and let out a sigh of relief. Then he went to the window and leant out, shouting, "I guess you don't need this shit anymore then? Great! I was planning to get rind of it anyway!" to the retreating figure trying to hail a taxi.
Logan collapsed onto his couch. He massaged his head, which was throbbing. Oh shit, he thought, I hope Veronica wants to go the premiere. Or that she wants to see me again. I guess we'll have to talk about what we are to each other, at some point. Or she'll disappear and change her name. There are even odds.
Logan's phone rang. He picked it up, saying, "Hey, Joe, what's up?"
"Oh, I'm just calling to remind you about the VF interview tomorrow morning, so you are mentally prepared. I just called Veronica to remind her too."
"Oh, great, Joe. Thanks. Bye." Logan hung up.
And I completely forgot about that. I guess we will be forced to have some sort of conversation about it. With some reporters. And photographers. I have seldom been this little excited for an interview. Excellent.
I hope this is satisfactory for now. I know, it wasn't that long, but it was something. Please tell me what to think, 'cause every review gives me more reason to update! Thanks.